Naturally, the worldly mortals had no knowledge of these secret dealings behind the scenes!
Even a great goddess that stood at the very peak of the world could only bow her head before a greater face, silently enduring all the humiliation and suffering.
If even the goddess herself was in such a predicament, the fates of the worldly beings could only be more tragic and desolate!
No more undead were swarming out of the Death Scar after Saoirse's interference.
However, the tide of undead that had swarmed into Fantasy Forest had already reached a shocking number of one million. The undead had no intention of retreating or remaining where they were. They gathered into an intimidating tide of undead under the command of intermediate and high-grade undead hiding among their ranks and charged straight for the city of Rhames.
Over eighty percent of the undead horde was composed of slow-moving zombies and skeletons. Their slow movement speed gave most of the forest creatures, magical beasts, and elven civilians time to evacuate.
However, the undead army didn't just comprise of these lowly creatures. There were several fast ghouls within their ranks as well, along with all sorts of higher-grade undead.
They had set out from the empty underground space and found themselves in this incomparably bountiful forest, where both botanical and animal resources were plentiful. They could not suppress their desire for fresh meat that came right from their soul. These undead immediately broke free of the horde and started wandering the Fantasy Forest, slaughtering everything in their path.
The undead army was like a hydra whose body was continually expanding and whose head was continuously multiplying. It was a hydra that bared its fangs against the surrounding woods as it continued to close it on Rhames.
Dozens and hundreds of battles were constantly breaking out in the forest around the undead tide. The elves started some of these skirmishes, some by the undead casters, and some were merely random encounters.
It didn't matter who it was that started the battle; there was no path of retreat for the participants. The only option they had was to fight to the death!
These one million cannon fodders were nothing to the undead powerhouse hiding behind the scenes. It would all be worth it if he were able to exchange them for the slight improvement of some of the elite undead!
The see-sawing negotiations were still ongoing behind the scenes for the elves. If the elves were able to put on a greater show of force and push back against the undead, Saoirse would have much more leverage in the compromise.
One side enjoyed exchanging quantity for quality, while the other simply had no choice.
It was all these reasons, hidden or publicly known, that caused it to be a death match whenever undead ran into elves and elves ran into the undead.
The bloody scene of the battle between these two forces could be seen throughout all five hundred kilometers of forest from Rhames to the Death Scar. The number of individuals that died in this conflict was so immense that it was impossible to keep count.
It was the first time the peaceful Fantasy Forest had ever been subjected to such painful torture and devastation!
…………
Even as they hid high above the clouds, Greem and the adepts had sensed the happenings in the woods below.
Greem couldn't help but feel nervous at the gigantic game of chess that the powerhouses played when he saw the ferocity of the undead horde, despite not being one of the combatants himself.
It might only be a boring game for those ultra-grade powerhouses.
However, a military movement like this on a mid-sized plane would already be a significant event that could send tremors through the plane!
Due to Alice's explanation, Greem had, more than anyone else, a crystal clear view of the causes that had led to this situation, as well as potential future developments. In all seriousness, the fact that the elves had been struck by such a disaster could very much be attributed to Greem and the adepts!
If the elven chief god Saoirse could spare the effort, she definitely wouldn't mind personally 'purifying' this group of evil adepts. As such, now was undoubtedly the best time to put into action any operations they had planned.
Blessed with this 'good fortune,' the flying ship carrying the adepts circled outside the area of conflict for quite a while. It was only when they saw the large flight of dragons breaking through the skies that they chose to raise their sails and escape into the distance. They were to wrap around and enter the central mountains from a different direction.
With the introduction of such a massive undead horde, Garan had now been stirred into a bursting pot of conflict. The elven alliance on the south coast was still keeping up their intense stand-off against the Pale Witches. They might have redirected part of their manpower, but the elves were still having a hard time stopping the undead tide from stretching its tendrils into their heartlands.
The elves had no other choice. The elite army that typically guarded the central mountains and watched over the elven court, the elven temples, and the mysterious restricted areas were drawn upon, again and again, cutting their numbers by more than half. All of these elite troops had hurried day and night to reach Rhames.
For a moment, the military force of the central mountains was unprecedentedly weak!
However, even this weakness was relative.
After all, be they elves or magical beasts, those that could stand in the central mountains were no weaklings.
The Pegasus Magic Spring that could give rise to the mysterious pegasus, the Moonglade that gave birth to the sacred unicorns, the Deadwood Arch that allowed adolescent treants to transform into treant warriors, and the home specially excavated for the forest dragons— the Dragoncliff.
These mysterious restricted areas wouldn't easily come under any danger, even without an elite army sent by the elven court. That was because every restricted area was always guarded by specified powerhouses of the race that inhabited the place. That was an unchanging fact.
Take for example the Pegasus Magic Spring that the Dark Witches had been coveting. It was the most sacred line of the pegasi.
The Pegasus Magic Spring was located in the southern area of the central mountains. A fifty-kilometer stretch of grassy green plains could be found there. It was the careful maintenance of the elves that kept this highland plains away from the ever-expanding influence of the Fantasy Forest, ensuring that the fields weren't drowned under the dense and dark shadows of a canopy.
Thousands of herds of wild horses of various sizes lived on this vast plain. Dozens of mutated white horses would be born here on a yearly basis. Only these mutated white horses had the right to walk into the center of the plains to bathe and drink from the Pegasus Magic Spring to evolve into the mysterious winged pegasus.
According to the agreement between the pegasi and the forest elves, the elves were only allowed to send in a certain number of knights on the day where pegasi were born to search for their steed.
There was to be no coercion or abduction. All elven knights had to rely on their Spirit and conviction to attract and move a pegasus that had just been born. That was the only way that they could qualify as Pegasus Knights that soared across the blue skies!
The elven army sent by the elven court could only be stationed around the border of the plain, keeping the peace of the wild herds. Inside the plains, a pack of powerful Skysteeds guarded the magic spring.
The so-called Skysteeds were just the evolved forms of the silver pegasi. Their appearance somewhat resembled the combination of a pegasus and a unicorn.
The grade classification of the pegasi was pretty simple. Ordinary pegasi were at the level of advanced apprentices or pseudo-adepts in the World of Adepts, while silver pegasi were considered First Grade creatures. Skysteeds, on the other hand, had entered the level of Second Grade magical beasts.
Meanwhile, the one and only Skysteed King of the pegasi was the only Third Grade creature of the herd.
The adepts might have classified the adept grades into nine different levels based on the power they wielded. However, not every species could reach such terrifying heights!
The pegasi were an example of this. Third Grade was the highest level that these magical creatures could possibly achieve!
Even if they wanted to advance further, their 'frail' bodies would not allow them to host even higher and stronger powers.
Consequently, the ones guarding the Pegasus Magic Spring were one Third Grade Skysteed King, seventeen Second Grade Skysteeds, and as many as a hundred First Grade silver pegasi.
If they were the only forces guarding the spring, then the joint forces of the Dark and Fate Witches, along with the Crimson Clan and their flying ship, would be enough to take control of the spring. However, the moment the witches would start attacking the magic spring and displaying offensive power beyond the limits of pegasi, the Skysteed King would summon the nearby elven armies without any hesitation.
There were no more than fifty kilometers of distance between the spring and the perimeter. It would take no more than thirty minutes for the elite elven army to arrive at the battlefield.
As such, the Dark Witches had to be determined in their actions if they wanted to obtain yields from the Pegasus Magic Spring. Moreover, the battle couldn't drag on for too long.
That would be a challenging problem for most other creatures. However, for the adepts that had masted all sorts of knowledge, this was extremely simple!
Forcefully breaking in, fighting their way through the plains to reach the spring, enduring yet another battle and finally escaping with a tragic victory; the adepts would never do such a thing.
Thousands of planes regarded adepts as the evilest and selfish intelligent lifeforms of the multiverse. They had not achieved that reputation by sheer strength. Instead, it was the use of their brains and the evil application of their knowledge.
The witches in the cabin immediately started getting to work when the flying ship approached the magic spring. They weren't preparing for battle, but for an unprecedentedly evil ceremony of witchcraft.
After the past three months of preparation, the adepts had already managed to uncover the secrets of the pegasi through them and the silver pegasi they had managed to capture. With the use of the Blackwinged Beetles raised by the Dark Witches and the Voodoo Doll that Greem and Endor had cultivated together, the might of this witchcraft ceremony was elevated to unimaginable heights.
They had no intention of lowering the aircraft. The entire ceremony was held five thousand meters above the Pegasus Magic Spring.
In consideration of the fierce winds and their negative impact on the spreading of the witchcraft, Greem ordered the flying ship to slowly descend as the witchcraft ceremony reached its final notes.
By the time the flying ship was a thousand meters above ground, it had already been exposed to the eyes of plenty of pegasi.
Large clouds of black smoke surged out of the cabin as the ship slowly descended.
These black clouds of smoke appeared to have a mind of their own. They were not scattered by the fierce winds and instead gathered together and buzzed toward the magic spring below. From above, the spring looked as large as a lake.
All this undoubtedly caught the attention of the pegasi garrison!